


parachute jump

by ravenclawboys



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Rarepair, kagehina if you squint, mostly just Osamu and Tadashi but I tagged the others just for kicks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:54:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29117826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenclawboys/pseuds/ravenclawboys
Summary: “I did not just fall in love, I made a parachute jump.” - Zora Neale HurstonWas that— had that been flirting? Was Osamu Miya flirting with him? If that was the case, then holy shit. Tadashi thought about Osamu Miya’s pretty eyes winking at him. Something rolled over in his stomach. He wasn’t sure if it was in a good way, yet, but he thought maybe it could be.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 18
Kudos: 83





	parachute jump

**Author's Note:**

> “I did not just fall in love, I made a parachute jump.” - Zora Neale Hurston

“One day, I’m gonna set for you!” 

As Atsumu proclaimed this, he swung his arm and pointed dramatically at the orange-haired Karasuno first year. 

_Oh fuck that_ , Osamu thought. His brother always had to have the last word, huh? _Well, if you’re picking one then I’m picking one, too._

His eyes scanned the opposite side of the court: there was the dangerous setter— too scary, the middle blocker with glasses— too tall, and the pinch server with the green hair— too… actually, he was pretty cute. That settled it then. 

“Hey!” He pointed at the pinch server. The pinch server looked back at him. Everyone else on the court was looking at Osamu now. “One day, I’m gonna make you onigiri!” 

The pinch server’s eyes widened. He looked to his left and right as if Osamu could’ve possibly been pointing at anyone else. It wasn’t possible. It was on a whim, but Osamu selected him with assured intent. 

“‘Samu! What the hell?”

“Don’t give me that! If you’re picking a Karasuno first-year, I’m picking one too! Just because I’m quitting volleyball doesn’t mean you get to have everything now, dipshit.” 

Atsumu gawked at him. Osamu grinned. 

“Don’t be petty now, ‘Tsumu. We gotta be gracious and do our handshakes.”

“Ass,” ‘Tsumu muttered. Osamu kicked him. 

“Stop,” said Kita, “Line up.”

As Osamu went up to the net he noticed the pinch server ( _number 12_ , he made a mental note of that) was still watching him out of the corner of his eye. He threw him a wink and the boy’s face flushed instantly. Osamu smiled, quietly proud of the reaction he’d earned. The blushing also made it clear, _he has freckles_. Osamu made a mental note of that, too. _Damn, he really is cute_. He’d definitely picked better than ‘Tsumu and mentally patted himself on the back. Maybe he really would make him onigiri one day.

\--- 

“What the fuck was that?”

Tadashi walked off the court with the other first-years and the rest of the team when Kageyama immediately brought up the strange interaction Hinata had with the blond Miya twin. 

“I— I don’t really know,” replied Hinata, “But you know, you don’t have to sound so angry about it though, Kags.” Hinata laughed. “You’re setting for me here.” 

Kageyama harrumphed grumpily but was obviously satisfied with Hinata’s answer. 

“Hey Tsukki,” Tadashi tugged on the edge of his friend’s shirt, “Do you know what that was? With the other one. The one that pointed at me.”

“I know, I was there Yamaguchi.”

“Sorry, Tsukki.” 

“But I don’t know.” 

“Oh. You don’t know?” Tsukki so rarely did not know the answer to Tadashi’s questions. 

“I guess, agh, I’m not great with that sort of thing, Yamaguchi.” Tsukki rubbed the back of his neck, clearly a bit flustered by the conversation. 

_That sort of thing?_ Tadashi didn’t even know what sort of thing had just occurred. He said so to Tsukki.

At that, Tsukki looked at Tadashi more strangely. 

“ _Flirting_ , Yamaguchi.”

Those words nearly stopped Tadashi in his tracks. Was that— had that been flirting? _Was Osamu Miya_ flirting _with him?_ If that was the case, then _holy shit_. Tadashi thought about Osamu Miya’s pretty eyes winking at him. Something rolled over in his stomach. He wasn’t sure if it was in a good way, yet, but he thought maybe it could be. 

\---

After that, so much happened, too much happened. They beat Nekoma. Then Hinata got sick, had been sick. They lost to Kamomedai. 

It isn’t until he’s sitting on the bus back home from Nationals that Tadashi thinks about Osamu again. Had he really been flirting with him? No one had ever flirted with him before and it seemed so strange, after a game like that. After his brother, the blond one, had called out Hinata. It felt like he might’ve dreamt it up, like it hadn’t really happened.

“Hey, Tsukki?”

Tsukki hummed in response. 

“Do you think Miya Atsumu was flirting with Hinata there, after the game?”

“What?”

“Well, I was just wondering what you thought. About that.”

“I guess he probably was, Yamaguchi.” 

“Oh.” 

Tadashi wasn’t sure what to make of that. If Atsumu had been flirting with Hinata, then Osamu was probably flirting with him, too, then. The thought sent a wave from his heart to his stomach, a mix of anxiety, thrill, and heat. He could feel his face warming already. Tadashi had always been an easy blusher. 

“Yamaguchi?” 

Tadashi turned his head up towards Tsukki, waiting for him to continue. 

Tsukki looked down at him and smirked. He poked at his cherry-red cheek. 

“This wouldn't have something to do with Miya Osamu, would it?”

Tadashi spluttered. Tsukki had been his best friend for years, but he’d hoped to have been a bit more subtle than that. 

“Ha, you totally have a crush on him.”

“I do _not_ Tsukki! I don't even know him.”

“In that case, you're at least into him.”

Tadashi’s face heated, impossibly, more. He could feel it and buried his head in his hands. 

“Oh, you _are_ into him. You’re so into him. Yamaguchi, do you have a type? If you do you're lucky there’s two of him.”

Tsukki, who was so often the picture of stoicism, could not hide his glee teasing Tadashi about this. Tadashi peaked out between his fingertips. 

“There’s not two of him. One is Hinata’s.”

“And if one is Hinata’s, that makes Osamu yours.” 

“Ahhghh, Tsukki!”

“Admit it. You walked right into that one Yamaguchi.”

\---

Osamu was clutching the Nationals roster, skimming it vigorously. Finally, _Karasuno_. 

Number 12. 

Yamaguchi Tadashi. 

_Yamaguchi Tadashi._

_Yamaguchi Tadashi_. 

_Tadashi. Tadashi. Tadashi_. 

It was a nice name. Nice enough to belong to the cute freckled pinch server from Miyagi. Nice enough for Osamu to think about over and over again, all day. 

He’d sorta done this whole thing to mock Atsumu, but that didn't mean it had to stay that way. Especially not when Yamaguchi Tadashi was that adorable. _Osamu had made him blush_. 

Osamu had also winked at him, a move that, in retrospect, made him cringe. Why he’d been feeling cocky enough (after a loss, no less) to pull that shit was beyond him. Frankly, it seemed more like something Atsumu would do and that made it even worse. Sometimes his twin rubbed off on him in the strangest ways: only ‘Tsumu could’ve brought out the competitiveness and over-confidence Osamu had displayed back there. 

Osamu hoped Yamaguchi Tadashi didn't think he was an ass. Why it mattered what he thought of Osamu was in itself rather baffling. They’d never even spoken. _Actually_ , Osamu realized, _you shouted at him across the court and he didn't even respond to you._

__

__

_… Holy shit, did I get rejected already?_

_Fuck_. Osamu hadn't really exactly been asking him to onigiri technically. He just said he was gonna _make it for him_. Aaaannnnddd that sounded even worse. What the hell was he gonna do now. He was just making fun of ‘Tsumu. It wasn't supposed to go this far. He wasn't supposed to be overthinkin’ the situation this much. This shouldn't even _be_ a situation. 

Atsumu was the fucking simp of the two of them. This didn't happen to Osamu. He didn't get unrequited crushes from across the court. He didn't scramble to find names in a roster of hundreds. 

And yet…

\---

Tadashi was lying in bed, thinking about what it might be like to be loved. 

Okay, yeah, he also realized that was probably taking this way, way too far. 

It was just that no one had ever shown interest in him like that before. It made his heartbeat speed up, a rapid-fire drumbeat— thinking about Osamu’s wink, his powerful spikes, and his elegant arm pointing towards _Yamaguchi_ of all people. He said he’d _make him onigiri one day_. What did that mean? Was that supposed to be a date? 

Realistically, Tadashi knows it wasn’t a date and that it really didn't mean much at all. He knows nothing about Osamu. Well, he knows he plays for Inarizaki (which is in _Hyogo_ of all places) and has a twin brother. He knows what he looks like (he definitely knows what he looks like). He knows he can't stop thinking about the very idea that someone like Miya Osamu might be into someone like him. He knows he wants to make him onigiri one day. 

Is that enough? Is that enough to sustain a crush? 

Maybe it shouldn't be, but for Tadashi, it was enough. Tsukki got confessions frequently enough at school, even though he had never accepted any of them. Kageyama also got confessions because girls thought he was handsome and mysterious (they were wrong, but only the volleyball team knew that) and he never accepted any of them either. Hinata had never been confessed to, but he was so hung up on Kageyama that Yamaguchi didn’t think it mattered to him much.

But some nights it mattered to Tadashi. It mattered so much. 

The truth was, sometimes Tadashi got lonely and it ached. It didn’t happen often, only when he thought about it too hard. Most of the time he had Tsukki and the volleyball club. Times like now, though, it was harder to lie alone with the knowledge that some people had others lying next to them. The digital clock next to Tadashi’s bedside hurtled from 22:00 to midnight, yet crawled beyond midnight minute by minute, earning nothing for its efforts. Every tick of the clock brought Tadashi closer to no one. To lie in bed alone at this hour was to know the absence next to you. No one had ever filled that spot for him. No one had ever held Tadashi like that. Not since he was a child, maybe, when his mother had. There was only so much one could do to indulge a forgotten feeling, an imagined feeling. 

Tadashi curled up beneath his blanket and imagined what it would be like to be held, to be in the arms of a lover, just asleep. It was easy to drift off in this dream scenario of invisible physical contact. No one else had to know whose arms Tadashi pictured around him at night (or whose face he saw in his dreams). 

\--- 

It had been a while since Osamu had kissed anyone. The last time had been months ago when everyone on the team got too drunk and he and Rin had made out. It was an incident they’d agreed not to mention again, so it didn’t really count. 

It wasn’t that Osamu wanted to kiss Rin again. It was just that it was nice to be wanted, to imagine being wanted. Kissing Rin was only nice because they were friends, so he knew Rin, at the very least, liked him as a person. Kissing people you didn’t know enough to like, like strangers from other schools at parties or the friend of a friend’s cousin, was unfulfilling. Osamu had learned that through unfortunate trial and error. He always felt emptier afterward than he had without it. 

But Osamu sorta kinda maybe wanted to kiss Yamaguchi Tadashi, despite not knowing him at all. Osamu didn’t know anything about Yamaguchi other than that he’s Karasuno’s pinch server. That was it. It was difficult to rationalize his attraction to the boy. Osamu had never seen himself as a guy with ‘things.” He never ruled anyone out for their appearance, but obviously, some people were more attractive to him. That wasn’t debatable. And his freckles, those would be the death of him, certainly. 

So Tadashi became the object of Osamu’s fantasies, and vice versa, for the time being. But, well, there are a few ways for a crush to die. The fact is a crush is heavily reliant on romanticization: literally, to make romantic— to make romantic their every action, to watch every ordinary motion in a rush of gold light and to imagine them so effortlessly ideal; more so, to imagine them as yours and you as theirs, this desire hinges on enchanting the unknown of them. Crushes leave you breathless. But, aptly, crushes are named for what they do to your heart— crush it. 

It is possible to get too close to your crush. If you can’t disengage from the romantic ideal you’ve imagined, and teenage boys never can, then your crush cannot live up to your expectations. Though this is not what happened to Osamu and Tadashi. Rather, the opposite occurred. See, you can only take so far what’s in your mind, and there was so little to go off of between the two of them. Osamu and Tadashi were so far away from each other. There was nothing to romanticize, to crush on when the object of your affections is little more than a face and a vague declaration of intentions living in a distant part of the country from you. 

So Tadashi relished in Osamu’s promise and his wink for a few weeks. He reveled in the mere fact that someone was interested in him, that he had been chosen by someone. And Osamu thought about what it might be like to kiss someone like Yamaguchi Tadashi until he started thinking about what it might be like to kiss the boy in the baseball club instead. 

As quickly as it came, their mutual affection was quick to leave, ephemeral as any crush is without any substance to build on its foundation. In short, they forgot. 

\---

Six years later, Hinata Shouyou joins the MSBY Black Jackals. 

When Atsumu called to tell him so, Osamu really didn’t know what to say. So he settled on, “Okay, and? That’s great you have a new teammate and all but what’re ya tellin’ me for?”

“I mean I’m settin’ for him, ‘Samu. He was Karasuno’s Number 10 way back when. Don’t you remember?”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” said Atsumu mockingly, then more seriously, “I’m keeping my promise.”

Osamu hung up on him. Now that it had been brought to the forefront of his mind, it seemed impossible that he had ever forgotten— Number 12, Yamaguchi Tadashi, his freckles, his promise. _‘Tsumu really does remember everything, doesn’t he_. That was all well and good, but although Atsumu was now setting for Hinata, Osamu couldn’t help but think that Atsumu hadn’t done anything to make that happen. Hinata joined MSBY on his own volition whereas Osamu couldn’t make a man he didn’t even know suddenly appear in his onigiri shop. Still, he doubted he’d be as lucky as Atsumu to have Yamaguchi Tadashi simply wander into Onigiri Miya by chance. 

As it happened, chance was on Osamu’s side. 

\---

Tadashi wouldn’t have missed the MSBY v. Adlers game for the world. He was going to watch with Tsukki and Yachi to support Hinata and Kageyama. Obviously. It was a volleyball game. There was no reason to go other than to support his friends who played professional volleyball. It was just, well, in his last phone call with Hinata he went on and on about how “great my new setter is and his name is Miya Atsumu and oh, Yamaguchi, remember how he told me he’d set for me back in high school? Crazy how it’s happening now, and his brother makes the best onigiri Atsumu brought some by practice the other day and also, Yamaguchi, I heard your brain stop functioning over the phone should I call the coroner?” 

Okay, so that last part was improvised, but that’s basically how it went from his point of view. In Hinata’s non-stop flutter, the nerves enabling Tadashi’s train of thought snapped and stopped at, “Remember how he told me he’d set for me back in high school?”. Because Tadashi did not remember, not until that very moment. 

_“One day, I’m gonna make you onigiri.”_

__

__

_How could I have ever forgotten?_ And now that Hinata had fulfilled not only Atsumu’s promise but also the one Osamu made which was not meant for him, it suddenly felt very possible that Tadashi could do the same. (Not the setting bit, of course) But perhaps even so many years later, Tadashi could eat onigiri made by _Miya Osamu_. 

So here he was at Sendai Stadium, begging off Tsukki and Yachi with excuses that the match was starting soon, off in search of a bite to eat. 

The halls were crowded with fans and children and vendors. Tadashi didn’t know it wouldn’t be difficult to find, but Onigiri Miya stood out with the longest line by far. He took his place at the end of it. 

It was at this moment that Yamaguchi realized he was utterly unprepared to speak to this man. _What the hell am I supposed to say to him? “Hey, you probably don’t remember me but I might’ve been half in love with you six years ago and we’ve never spoken, so here I am.”_

__

__

_Holy shit. I am in trouble_. 

As people made and received their orders one by one, Tadashi inched ever closer. A cowardly part of him considered leaving the line altogether. Another part thought of not acknowledging that he recognized Miya at all. 

_But you are stronger now_ , he told himself. He really was. He was so much more than he was in high school. Being a pinch server had helped him gain a lot of confidence in himself while college had helped him gain confidence with others. He wasn’t as insecure about his looks as he was when he first met Miya— when he couldn’t conceive of anyone being attracted to him. He’d started wearing his hair shorter, which helped, having to bear his face to the world instead of hiding behind a curtain of bangs. 

He could try this. He was allowed to chase this. He took a deep breath. 

“What can I get for you today?”

Tadashi stared at the employee who was very much _not_ Miya Osamu asking for his order. He gave it anyways.

 _Well, fuck. That backfired_. 

Tadashi felt like there should be some rule in place that a Miya serve you onigiri at Onigiri Miya, but alas. Now he was standing, waiting, second-guessing, and feeling generally like an idiot. It was embarrassingly disappointing, like he’d been rejected by the universe. The fates wouldn’t even give him a chance. _Or maybe the universe was just saving me from making a fool of myself_ , thought Tadashi. 

Then, interrupting his deprecating monologue, “Thanks! Come again soon.”

Tadashi looked up into the eyes of one Miya Osamu. _Not to be dramatic_ , considered Tadashi, _but he might be perfect_. The point being, Miya Osamu was really fucking hot. _If only high-school-Tadashi could see me now_. 

So, like a brilliant romantic poet, Tadashi said, “Thanks,” and turned around. 

_Fuck no shit fuck what idiot I should’ve said something else dammit now I’m starting to walk away should I turn around that’s just embarrassing what the hell was I thinking his eyes are so pretty fuck—_

“Oh hey! It’s you.”

Tadashi turned around. 

\--- 

Osamu’s thought process went something like this: (1) _holy shit he is at my store and he is standing in front of me_ , (2) _freckles_ , (3) _he’s walking away how do I stop that_ , and (4) _freckles freckles freckles_. 

What came out of his mouth, however, was, “Uh… from Karasuno! You were the one with that real nasty jump floater!”

 _Oh, brilliant idea Osamu, pretend you don’t know his name. That’s an outstanding impression to make_. Sometimes he hated himself. But Yamaguchi Tadashi (because Osamu absolutely knew his name) was turning around and walking back towards him.

“Ah, it’s Yamaguchi.” 

_Yamaguchi, Yamaguchi, Yamaguchi. Okay, play it cool_. 

“Oh yeeeah, this is Sendai. Duh. It’s your home turf.” 

_Idiot. Obviously, you’re in Sendai. What the hell was that?_

Yamaguchi chuckled at that, though, and Osamu hoped he wasn’t blushing. 

“Yeah, but even if it wasn't’ being held here in Sendai, there’s still no way I’d miss this game,” Yamaguchi said enthusiastically. 

“Heh,” Osamu smirked back at him, “I bet you wouldn’t.” 

They both turned to look at the prominent V. League banner behind them proclaiming the match. 

Osamu was feeling disoriented and reckless. It was an unfamiliar feeling, based on a surprisingly strong memory of telling the guy he’d make him onigiri one day. It was startling, to see someone you know from appearance only in front of you, buying a meal from your own onigiri shop. He felt like he should say something more (he wanted to say something more). But what else? What else was there to say to a man you crushed on when you were sixteen? Now that he had made him his food, he didn’t know where else to go. _Does he even remember that I said that to him?_

Osamu turned to look back at Yamaguchi. He had to say something. 

“Hey, Yamaguchi.”

He looked at him with eager eyes and said, “Yeah?”

Osamu took a deep breath, “If you don’t already have plans after the game, the teams are gonna be at my restaurant nearby to celebrate afterward. You should come. If you’re free.” 

_Fuck, I already said that. Idiot._

“That sounds great!”

_HOLY SHIT YES WAY TO GO—_

“But I actually do already have dinner plans with my friends, some old Karasuno players.” 

_FUCK._

“Bring them, too!” 

“Really?”

Osamu wanted him there so badly he decided he really did not give a fuck who he brought. 

“Absolutely. I’ll see you there then?”

“For sure,” Yamaguchi was smiling and he was _stunning_ , “I’m looking forward to it. Thanks for the invite, Miya.”

Osamu’s heart was thumping so loud. He was a grown man freaking out that he had just asked his high school crush to a party. He wasn’t sixteen anymore. This should not have been this nerve-wracking or this exciting. And yet, all he could think about was how he was gonna get to see Yamaguchi tonight. How was he supposed to keep working with that on his mind?

\---

Tadashi’s heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest any second. He nearly got lost on the way back to his seat he was in such a daze. When he finally made it back, he fell into his seat rather than sat down. Tsukki looked at him strangely. 

“You okay?”

Then his eyes caught the logo on the food bag and he grinned maniacally at Tadashi. 

“Ah, I see. Run into any old friends on your errand?” 

Tadashi shot him a look. He was having difficulty processing what had just happened. Tsukki kept talking. 

“Looks like he finally made you onigiri after all.” 

While that was objectively true, Tadashi didn’t think it counted in the context Tsukki was implying. He was having difficulty reconciling the man he just met (re-met?) with the teenager he’d known (barely). His image of Miya was so outdated. Tadashi flushed. Twenty-something Miya was, to put it succinctly, insanely hot. (And successful. And nice. And tall. And he looked strong. _And he had invited Tadashi to a party at his restaurant_.) 

Tadashi turned to Tsukki and Yashi, “You guys wanna go to a party tonight?”

“Yes!” Yashi clapped her hands. Yashi could always be counted on for enthusiasm. 

On the other hand, Tsukki’s face dropped. 

“This wouldn’t happen to be the same party Hinata and Kageyama are going to, would it?”

Tadashi nodded. Tsukki grimaced. 

“And so Bokuto and Hoshiumi and all the monsters will be there?”

Tadashi nodded. Tsukki looked at him painfully. 

“And your Miya will be there.” 

Tadashi paused. 

“He isn’t _my_ Miya,” he grumbled, “But yes.” 

Tsukki sighed dramatically. 

“Only for you Tadashi, only for you.”

Tadashi beamed. They were going to the party. 

\---

Onigiri Miya was bursting at the seams with professional volleyball players and their closer acquaintances. Osamu spied his brother hanging on Sakusa’s arm, drinks in both their hands, talking to Ushiwaka and Hoshiumi. Hinata was somehow jumping and yelling while tucked under the arm of the Adler’s Kageyama Tobio. Bokuto was feeding onigiri to his boyfriend, the manga editor. Osamu had known about the couples, but he hadn’t considered that this event would mean seeing them all in one place. He suppressed imagining himself like that with Yamaguchi. The night was just starting; it was too soon for that. Luckily, both onigiri and alcohol were flying off the shelves at a speed only a crowd drinking to _get fucking drunk_ could manage, and Osamu was no exception. 

So he was nervous. Sue him. Yamaguchi hadn’t arrived yet and most of the players were two drinks in already, at least (though that did not reflect how little time had truly passed). Osamu was pacing himself, especially considering he was acting as chef and bartender tonight, as well. He wasn’t sure if a drink to calm his nerves would hurt his composure in the long run. Osamu wasn’t in the habit of getting over-intoxicated, but better safe than sorry tonight. 

Embarrassingly, there was a lot on the line tonight. At least, it felt like there was. In the time between seeing Yamaguchi and now, Osamu had questioned whether it was super lame to even give himself a chance with a fleeting high school infatuation. It sorta felt regressive. Who was teenage Osamu to make such a bold claim? And who was he now to follow through? His high school experience hadn’t been negative by any means, but he certainly hadn’t peaked then. What did it say about him that he was desperately anxious over the chance to fulfill a teenage dream? 

He took a deep breath, poured the Adler’s captain a drink, and forced himself not to watch the door… 

Then Yamaguchi walked in with two blonds. 

_Well, I’m fucked_. 

Context helped Osamu identify the two as the former Karasuno manager and middle blocker (Bokuto yelling “TSUKKI!!” and yanking the unenthusiastic taller man away might’ve helped, too). 

_He_ had _said he was going to dinner with_ friends, _right?_

Osamu watched as the petite blonde girl tapped Yamaguchi’s shoulder and pointed towards Hinata across the room. He watched as Yamaguchi gave her a smile and ignored how he wanted one for himself. He watched Yamaguchi’s eyes scan the room until they found him and he waved him over. 

_Deep breaths, Osamu, just be casual_. 

“Hey, Miya.”

It was dark but Osamu could just make out Yamaguchi’s freckles. He was so, so adorable. 

“Yamaguchi, I’m glad you and you’re friends could make it,” _so far so good, Osamu_ , “And you can call me Osamu, Miya’ll get too confusing with ‘Tsumu around tonight.” 

_Abort, abort, abort. You asked him to call you by your first name? What the hell are you thinking?_

“Well, then you can call me Tadashi.”

 _Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit_. 

“Tadashi.”

It rolled off his tongue so nicely. 

“That’s what I said.”

“Okay, Tadashi. Can I get you a drink?” 

Tadashi said yes and the next few hours faded into a blur of pleasant conversation, everything funnier with alcohol, and Osamu doing his best to cox a blush, a smile, a laugh from Tadashi.

 _Tadashi. Tadashi. Tadashi_. 

Osamu’s pulse was fluttering like he was seventeen again and he couldn’t keep a grin off his face. He was having more fun than he’d had in a while. He didn’t even notice his brother wreaking havoc all across his fine dining establishment. It didn’t even matter. 

\---

“Osamu?”

Tadashi played with the straw in his cocktail, pushing ice around the bottom in a weak attempt to fiddle away his nervousness. But he couldn’t half-ass this, this was a big question. The most important one he had to ask, so he forced himself to meet Osamu’s eyes.

“I’m hungry.”

 _Fuck. Goddamnit, that’s not what I meant to say_. 

“I— I mean, I meant. Uh.”

_Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why did this have to be so embarrassing? Why am I so nervous?_

“Tadashi, could I make you some onigiri?”

Tadashi drew in a sharp breath. 

“Yes, please.” 

Tadashi watches Osamu make him onigiri, resting his chin in his hand. They are both certainly drunk, but only having just crossed into the threshold where everything becomes sort of numbed and peaceful, almost as if on the brink of sleep. Tadashi sighs. He can’t remove his gaze from Osamu’s hands: he stares as his fingers gently fold in the filling and pack the rice. He is almost too enraptured to track the dish being set down in front of him.

He slowly raises his eyes to look directly at Osamu. 

“Thank you.” 

“Anytime.”

“Anytime?”

Osamu chuckles, “Well, try it first.” 

“I did try it earlier. At the stadium.” Tadashi isn’t entirely sure why he feels the need to clarify this. 

Osamu blinks, then, says, “Try this one, though. This one I made for you.”

Tadashi bites into the onigiri. It is, unsurprisingly, delicious. Tadashi says so. 

“Maybe you’d like to make it with me sometime, then.” 

Tadashi pauses. He wants to. He wants to so badly.

“Did you remember?” 

Tadashi hopes he won’t have to clarify.

“I didn’t, actually,” Osamu says, knowing exactly what he meant and rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, “Not until my idiot brother reminded me. It was when he started setting for Hinata.”

Tadashi smiles. “That’s when I remembered, too.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. And look!” Tadashi gestures broadly to the food in front of him, “We did it.” 

A laugh bursts out of Osamu and he looks at Tadashi like how Tadashi had always wanted to be looked at. 

Then, suddenly, Osamu’s hand is on the juncture of his neck and shoulder. It is so warm. Tadashi meets his gaze, finding grey eyes bright in the semi-darkness, and gulps. 

“Osamu?”

Osamu leans across the bar, bracing himself on his forearm, tugging lightly on Tadashi’s shirt collar, and kisses him. 

Tadashi’s never jumped out of an airplane, but he imagines it would feel something a lot like this: his stomach swoops and his heart careens around inside him. He is falling. He is flying. 

He fits his mouth to Osamu’s lips and presses against it. He tastes gin and tonic and smells like the onigiri he’s been making all night— the onigiri Tadashi knows means home and passion and faithfulness to him. He feels Osamu’s hand shift up to hold his jaw and he leans into the sensation. He tilts his head and opens up more to let Osamu kiss and kiss and kiss him. It is unhurried and soft. It is warm and careful. A feeling settles between his chest and his stomach, not horniness or drunkenness. Maybe it’s something like when he makes a perfect pinch serve, like when he hugs his family after a long time away, or like walking his favorite path through the suburbs. It buzzes sweetly and continues to fizzle inside him even after he and Osamu part, their lips making a quiet sound in the minimal space between them. He looks into Osamu’s beautiful eyes (he wants to know this man; he wants to learn this man) and he smiles. Osamu smiles back and caresses his cheek. 

He says, “Tadashi,” like he’s found a home. 

Tadashi doesn’t want to get too far ahead of himself, but it feels like something that could turn into love.

**Author's Note:**

> I heard about this pairing on tiktok three weeks ago and look how far we've come. I have no idea how to write either of these characters, but I loved the tiny bits of canon info we had on them and wanted to tie it all together. This fic actually feels like a lot of improvement from things I've written before (most of which is unfinished and not posted), so I hope you enjoy it! I struggled to write the ending for a while but settled on this. Kudos and comments are always appreciated! 
> 
> I have two Kagehina WIPs to get going on that I'm excited about and though it will be a while before anyone sees them, I hope to post them once they're ready. 
> 
> Find me on tumblr @ ravenclawboys


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